Wedding Epiphany
"I'm your best... friend?"
Sherlock blinked rapidly, futilely trying to chase away the emotion that threatened to show on his face from the shock of the statement.
Friend. Best friend.
What?
He was no one's best friend. Frankly, he was barely even anybody's friend, let alone... 'besties'. He wasn't friend material and he certainly wasn't best friend material.
So, why did John...
What was... How did he get defined as... Was it the cases? The cases had to have had something to do with it. John liked the excitement that he no longer had on the battlefield and that's why he had enjoyed the cases so much. But they hadn't been on a case lately. John had Mary. Wasn't Mary John's best friend? Or was a person capable of having more than one best friend? And Sherlock had faked his death. He had been away for two years. He hadn't spoke to John in two years and John had slammed his forehead straight into his nose when they had met up again nine months ago. He had told him to do... well, certain unmentionable things to himself that Sherlock had no intention of doing. And if the words hadn't said in so many words, the middle finger in the air certainly had. But then... The train. And...
Best friend?
How was he his best friend?
That was... that was actually... really... sort of... touch...ing... Touching...
This was strange. His heartbeat was quicker, pulse increasing, his entire body felt warm but his hands felt cold. Sweat was forming under his arms, in the small of his back, and on his palms. Unconscious reactions to stimuli around him and that stimulation had come from the admission that he was... John's... best... friend.
But... best friend. He was also... expected to be the best man. It certainly made sense... The best friend was supposed to be the best man, if Sherlock remembered correctly. But that meant... he had to be a part of the wedding. He had planned on being a part, to an extent; he was helping to set it up and he had already given his RSVP even before the invitations had been made, but he had planned on being in the audience. Watching. Not an actual... part of the wedding. That was... unexpected. Very unexpected. Almost... yeah, touching.
But why? Why did John want him to be a part of the wedding? Why did he want to give him the opportunity to... be in the spotlight? He always said that he showed off too much, but now John wanted him to take some of the limelight away from him? That was... illogical. It was... not right, it couldn't be right. What was wrong with John?
Sherlock blinked again, slowly unclasping his hands and blindly reaching for his cup of tea. He knew something was wrong the moment he took a sip and only then did he remember the eyeball that he'd been experimenting on.
"How was that?" John asked, a touch of humour in his voice.
Sherlock swallowed again and unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "... Surprisingly okay," he muttered, flicking his gaze down to the tea just as the eyeball floated to the surface.
His stomach was in knots and he was sure that it wasn't because of the tea.
The Sign of Three fanfiction #3. Loved this scene. For being a genius, as John has said, he can be remarkably thick. So many John-Sherlock feels this episode.
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